34th annual East End festival returns Oct. 2–12 with premieres, Screenwriters Lab, SummerDocs and outdoor… Read More →
The Breakers hosted Palm Beach’s social and philanthropic elite as the Old Bags Luncheon™ auction… Read More →
See what’s trending this week—what’s opening, what’s closing, who’s showing, who’s making sparks. Food Scene… Read More →
Pop star’s lawyers say bodycam video would be a privacy nightmare Attorneys for pop star… Read More →
From Lady Gaga to Liza Minnelli (and not on the same stage this time), March… Read More →
Snow-capped mountains, mid-century modern design, Rat Pack lore and desert sunshine — why Palm Springs… Read More →
From stand-up comedy and live music to gallery openings, author talks and Oscar-night watch parties… Read More →
Long before Instagram summers and $100,000 rentals, the couple slipped away to a modest Sagaponack… Read More →
A $32 million estate at 200 Rose Hill Road swaps cedar shingles for concrete and… Read More →
After four weeks of testimony, prosecutors say the once–celebrated luxury real-estate siblings followed the same… Read More →
Hamptons Diary: by Abby Russell – Dirty Chai and World Peace (sort of)
Dear Hamptons Diary …
On a recent sunny morning in Westhampton Beach, just after dropping my kiddo off at marine science camp, I took myself to the hopping One Trick Pony for my usual: an egg sando and a dirty chai. I guess I just like ordering something dirty in the morning. I mean, I’m a middle-aged single mom — I take my thrills wherever I can find them.
It’s a seriously gorgeous day, so I sit down at the only open table outside and survey the landscape: South of me, a type-A woman is banging away at her laptop, on a mission like she’s the female version of Philip Roth. East of me, two 30-something finance bros are regurgitating stock tips they heard on Varney while their caramelized onion, bacon jam–slathered eggs slip through their fingers. West of me, two tan teenagers and their equally tan mom and dad bask in the warm sunshine — and in each other — while their contented poodle rests under their table.
A waitress appears, carrying a breakfast plate and coffee.
“Is there a Christian here?” she calls out, glancing down at her pad. Silence.
“Is there a Christian here?” she yells again.
“No, but any interest in a Jew?” I ask. Everybody laughs.
“How about a Hindu?” yells someone in the back.
“Any Catholics?”
Everyone wants in on this. Looking to the keyboard tapper behind me, I say, “I don’t know if this would fly in Europe, but I think Westhampton Beach is okay?”
“You’re safe here,” a finance bro says.
Since the whole breakfast crew and the waitress are laughing and bonding, I feel emboldened to continue. “Just because I’m pro-Israel doesn’t mean I’m anti-Palestinian. I’m simply against terrorism.”
Everyone again chimes in: They are also pro-Israel, pro-humanity, and pro-peace. As the group nods in agreement, the poodle stands up from under the table.
“Exactly,” says the dad sitting with his family. “I’m pro-poodle!”
Yes. It feels like this corner of Westhampton Beach may have just solved all the world’s problems.
